Poem: Motherhood & Maple Syrup

I can’t quite locate myself beneath this maple syrup dripped shirt Pull a long strand of dyed brown hair from my mouth Tiny, needy arms fling themselves around my thigh Tears mix with pancake at the corner of her mouth I get on my knees I hold her hands I think, If I could steal ten minutes I would: Take a walk Eat the leftover bacon Read a page in the library book that’s overdue Maple syrup dripped on that, too.